


The Greatest Escape

by tillthestarsevaporate



Category: The Dark Tide - Alicia Jasinska
Genre: 3 Things, 3+1 Things, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Fluff, POV Eva, Post-Canon, Second Kiss, Young adult fantasy, another instance of me dealing with the end of a book by writing a fic about it, spoilers for The Dark Tide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26504263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tillthestarsevaporate/pseuds/tillthestarsevaporate
Summary: After the first time Eva and Lina rode the boat together, many more moments followed.Orthree times Eva and Lina take a *casual* stroll with Lina's boat, and one time things become more than casual.Basically a continuation of that last scene from the book, and several more that are based on it.
Relationships: Eva | The Witch Queen/Lina Kirk
Kudos: 50





	1. ONE

**Author's Note:**

> So I am really not sure if anyone would read this at all, but here goes nothing. As much as I enjoyed the book and the moments these two shared , I really wanted to write more interactions that focussed on their relationship. I guess that's why a sequel exists. Until then, here, have these few stolen moments on the boat.
> 
> If you like what you read, please consider leaving kudos and commenting. It would mean the world to me!

The broom boat rocked against the water as Eva sat beside Lina.

“We’ll keep trying to find one,” Lina said when Eva confirmed there would be no more sacrifices to the tide. “Together. However long it takes.”

Eva was too stubborn to ask Lina for help, she knew, although the prospect of trying to defeat the tide sounded a little less daunting if Lina was by her side. “That wasn’t a request for your help,” was what came out instead. There was a difference between not asking for help, and outright refusing it, but Eva’s traitorous tongue had other ideas.

“Too bad,” Lina said with a tone of finality. Eva wouldn’t admit it, but she was so grateful Lina was Lina. Stubborn, headstrong, irritating. Lovely.

She leaned into Eva and rested her head on her shoulder. Eva stiffened. Not out of discomfort, no. It was merely surprise, the gooseflesh-inducing kind. It was so unlike her to be too enamoured by someone to even consider pushing them away. It used to be, she corrected herself, until Lina came along and broke through all those ice walls she’d raised around herself, brick by rigid brick.

“Come and watch me dance when I’m allowed to again, when my ankle’s stronger.”

“Only if you come dance for the sea serpent.”

“Because it likes me?” Cigarette smoke wafted through the night air.

“Because I like you,” Eva heard herself say. “I can’t think why.”

Eva felt, rather than saw, Lina smile, her head still on Eva’s shoulder but her face looking at the star-filled sky. She drummed her knuckles against the boat and it drifted farther into the ruins of the old city. Silence stretched between them as the boat bobbed from side to side, Lina’s head continually making and losing contact with Eva’s shoulder.

That intermittent absence of contact was yet another infuriating thing Eva had to experience that night. It was like Lina was intentionally taunting her. Her irritation faded when Lina lifted her head and sat closer, her arm now resting along the length of Eva’s. The move strengthened their connection contact, maintained it, and yet, the hollow where Eva’s heart used to be craved more.

She knew she couldn’t afford such fantasies, though. Not when both she and Lina were still recovering after the events of the full moon. For now, Eva simply savoured the company.

Eva dissolved her cigarette into thin air when she and Lina both had their fill. With the absence of its lighted end, the darkness intensified. Eva loved it, but she knew from countless nights in her study, with Lina researching another way to tame the tide, that Lina sought the light.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand what you love about the dark so much,” said Lina, as if reading her thoughts.

“I’ll never understand how anyone could hate it.”

“I never said I hate it, just that I don’t love it.”

“It’s the same thing. And the dark gives me the space, the quiet, to hear my thoughts. Even though they might not be the most pleasant thoughts.”

“I feel like that sometimes,” Lina said, her voice so low that Eva suspected she wouldn’t have heard it if she wasn’t paying attention.

“I know, Lina.” Eva tasted the name on her lips, realising for the first time that it wasn’t often that she called the other woman by her name. How strange. “Lina.” She tested the sound of it.

Lina moved back far enough to look at Eva. She furrowed her brows.

“I’m just trying out the name,” Eva told her.

Puzzlement painted Lina’s features. “It’s not like you’ve never used it before.”

“Not like this,” Eva whispered, shaking her head and lifting her vision to the night sky. She felt an arm entwining around hers, pulling her closer.

“Eva,” said Lina with evident wonder in her voice. Eva’s name on Lina’s tongue sent a flutter through her chest. “You’re right.” Lina’s head returned to its rightful place on Eva’s shoulder. “It sounds strange saying it out loud. It sounds...”

Lina trailed off, searching for the right word. There was a brief pause. “Beautiful,” she finally said. Eva sensed Lina’s gaze on her face. She dared not breathe.

She dared not meet those eyes. If she did, she knew what she would see there, and she wasn’t strong enough to resist eyes that looked at her like she was pure magic. Like there was no place else, no one else, they’d rather look at.

She revelled in the sensation, hoping Lina would turn away and spare her. Eva picked a star and fixed her eyes on it, Lina’s arm squeezing tightly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lina raise her head towards the sky. Moments passed, Eva not wanting to sever the connection. Long, perfect moments. And for the first time in her life, sitting quietly in the dark _with_ someone other than herself relaxed her.

“It’s late.” Eva cleared her throat. “You should go.”

Lina stiffened. Eva didn’t fight the urge this time and looked at Lina. “I meant . . . I’m sure your brother is worried.”

“You don’t want me here.” The look she gave Eva was, to say the least, disarming.

“I do!” Eva said quickly before she could change her mind, giving herself a mental slap for not considering how Lina might misread her suggestion to leave. She held her gaze. “I’m—I am sorry. I certainly didn’t mean to make you feel you’re . . . unwelcome.”

Lina gave her a playful nudge. “Relax. I was messing with you.” Her eyes turned mischievous.

Eva exhaled a sigh of relief. “I’m not sure how to feel about that.” Where had that come from, that admission?

“So you do feel after all,” Lina said, then, as if she noticed the emergence of Eva’s defensive stance, she added, “Again, messing with you. You did say you like me, after all.”

“I can’t—”

“You can’t think why, yes, you mentioned that.” Lina grinned. “Well, Eva, I _also_ like you.”

Eva tore her gaze away from Lina’s, a smile tugging at her lips. The kind she couldn’t have controlled even if she had wanted to. She stared into the distance.

Lina let go of her arm and gave Eva one last nudge, forcing her to turn her head in her direction.

“But you’re right. Finley will probably kill me if I don’t get home soon.”

She tapped the boat with her knuckles, steering it back to the Water Palace, where Eva dismounted.

“Until later.” Lina smiled as the boat turned away. Lina’s back faced her now, and the boat drifted farther and farther into the distance.

Eva’s eyes trailed her until she reached the island. When she lost sight of her, something stirred in the hollow inside her chest. Something she now recognised as an ache, an ache for warmth, for nearness.

And she knew this was just the beginning.


	2. TWO

It was only days, but to Eva, they felt like weeks, months. In that time, she hadn’t been able to rid herself of thoughts of Lina and her silver hair. Her bare legs. Her dark gaze.

Her mischievous smile.

Thoughts that served to only amplify Eva’s need to find more ways of being the cause of that smile.

Now, as Lina’s boat swam closer to Eva’s spot at the Water Palace, she hesitated. Would Lina like the gift? Would she think it was too much?

The boat came to a halt, and Eva wordlessly crept in. She took a seat opposite Lina, her cloak partially concealing the grey box she held.

“Oh, why don’t you get in,” Lina dead-panned, but the sparkle in her eyes gave her away.

Eva smiled through her nerves.

Lina tapped the boat before it turned left. She settled back in her seat and glanced at Eva, her eyes travelling to her hands. To the box she carried. “What’s that?” she asked.

Before Eva could chicken out, she held out the box. “I have something for you.”

Lina eyed her curiously. “Really? What is it?”

“Open it.”

Lina took the box, a tentative anticipation colouring her eyes. She gently removed the lid, and Eva watched, mesmerised, as her features changed. Her eyes widened, her breathing quickened. The slow upturn of her lips captured Eva’s stare.

Lina turned to her, her smile growing even wider, which Eva hadn’t thought possible. Just as she didn’t think it was possible to be this addicted to a mere pair of eyes.

“What do you think?” Eva asked with a shyness she was unaware she possessed.

Lina placed the box aside, and Eva was surprised when Lina got up and took that one step towards her, the boat growing wobbly at the movement. Their eyes connected. Lina bent and threw her arms around Eva.

Startled, Eva needed a few moments to register what was happening. Lina was hugging her.

Save for the time she hugged Lina at St. Casimir’s Square, the last person she shared a hug with was Natalia, and she had forgotten how it felt to be folded in someone’s warmth.

She wrapped her arms around Lina and drew her impossibly closer.

“Thank you,” whispered Lina.

Eva inhaled the smell of Lina’s hair. The desire to run her fingers through it was overwhelming. Lina rested her head on her shoulder.

Eva decided not to fight the impulse as she reached out and twined her fingers between silver strands of hair. She was never like that. Not about hair, of all things.

But it wasn’t the hair, she realised. It was its owner, who now possessively squeezed Eva’s body tighter, eliciting dangerous thoughts in her mind as she became all too aware of Lina’s curves.

Those thoughts took a plunge when she noticed Lina was shaking in her arms. Eva pressed her hands around Lina’s sides, then pulled back to look at her. Tears streaked Lina’s cheeks. A complete contrast to her beam only seconds earlier.

“What’s wrong?”

Lina shook her head. Typical of her, putting her own pain secondary to every one else’s.

“The days of you putting others first are gone, Lina.” There it was, the name again, its sound softening Eva, blunting her jagged edges. “Please. Just tell me who hurt you so I can kill them. Or feed them to my pet. Or both.”

That drew a weak smile from Lina.

“On second thought,” she added, “I don’t feed the serpent dead people. So I’ll probably just kill whoever made you cry.”

Lina looked at her with an impish grin through her tears.

Eva took pride in the victory, mirroring Lina’s grin. “You still haven’t told me what my serpent will be having for dinner.”

“No one, Eva.”

“Why were you crying then?”

Lina hesitated. “I just...”

Eva waited for her to continue, her hands on her shoulders. “Come sit.” Eva tapped the spot next to her, extending her hand. “Your ankle must be sore by now.”

Lina obliged as Eva moved aside and pulled her up. “Who knew a witch could be so considerate.”

Eva shrugged. “I have my moments.” She sat quietly after that, giving Lina the space to decide if she wanted to tell Eva the cause of her tears, making sure she knew Eva would be there regardless of the choice she made.

Lina stared in the distance, and Eva stared at her as she dabbed her eyes with her shirt sleeve.

“It wasn’t anyone,” Lina started. “I just remembered when you gave me those dancing shoes the first time.”

Eva nodded.

“I was so angry that I threw them into the sea.” Lina turned and met her gaze. “I think, even back then, that I knew there was something between us. We had just met, but I could tell you cared.”

“How?”

“There was a lot of thought put into all your gifts. They were all personal in some way.”

Eva stared, the shyness that only Lina managed to draw out making another appearance. Lina broke her gaze, as if looking into Eva’s eyes felt too intense for her like holding Lina’s felt for Eva.

“Anyway.” Lina broke the silence. “I love them.” She looked away, towards the stars.

“I’m happy you do. I kept racking my brain for what you would like, and had a feeling you liked the shoes.” Eva grinned. “Even if you cost me a lot of magic to get them back.”

“Are you ever going to let that go?”

“Unlikely.”

Lina raised her eyebrows.

“Although, now that I think about it,” Eva said, “I didn’t mind it. Using my magic, that is.”

“Why would you?”

“I didn’t mind that cost. Because it was for you.” Eva wanted to take the words back the moment she uttered them.

This time when Lina threw her arms around her, there was no slowness about it. No regard for the rocking boat.

This time, Eva closed her eyes.

This time, she didn’t pause before returning the hug.


	3. THREE

Weeks passed since the day Eva gave Lina the silver shoes that matched her hair. Since that night, they had met several times, most of which were near the palace. On one of those nights, as promised, Lina had invited Eva to watch her dance at the Conservatoire.

The performance was earlier today. The sight of Lina dancing had captivated Eva, mesmerised her, even more than it did that first time at the spring regatta. And just like last time, Eva had found herself with a deep ache, a want, for someone to dance for her that way.

For Lina to dance for her that way.

And as if Eva could handle any more, Lina had worn the dancing shoes she’d given her, gracing her, and only her, with a final smile at the end of the show.

 _Maybe Lina was dancing for me after all._ Eva allowed herself to hope.

Now, Lina’s broom boat neared the Water Palace, both Lina and Eva occupying it.

“I know I’ve already said it, but thank you for coming,” Lina said. “It truly meant the world to me.”

“The world, huh?”

“Yes.” Lina’s gaze was fierce. Directed at her, Eva suspected its effects would’ve been more catastrophic had she been standing.

“Is that why you insisted on coming home with me?” Eva realised the innuendo behind the words and backpedalled. “Taking me home, I mean.” That was worse. “Bringing me home.”

Lina was grinning from ear to ear. “Maybe.”

Sometimes Eva couldn’t stand it, but other times, like now, she _really_ couldn’t stand it.

The boat made a sudden stop, and Eva looked up to realise they arrived. She looked back and forth between Lina and the palace. “Looks like we’re here. I had a lovely night, Lina.”

Lovely night. _Lovely_ night. Eva couldn’t remember a time she ever used that word aloud.

She stood up and made to leave, but Lina grabbed her arm and pulled herself up.

“Wait, I’ll walk you there.”

“You must be tired from all that dancing, you don’t need—” But Lina was already out of the boat. Well, it was a feeble attempt.

Eva wished the distance to the palace doors was longer. Much longer.

Lina entwined their arms as they walked to the doors. “You know?” she said. “I love dancing.”

“I do know.”

“Let me finish.” She heard the seriousness in Lina’s voice and remained silent. “I love dancing, but today was special.”

“Because it was your first performance in a while.”

There was a flutter in Eva’s stomach as Lina whispered, “Because I was dancing for you, Eva.” Her voice was so small, so quiet. As if she expected Eva to pull away after the admission. As if she expected Eva to bolt and decide she never wanted to see her again.

As if Eva hadn’t been waiting for weeks, months even, for just that. For Lina to dance for her.

“Should I have not said anything?” asked Lina in a voice devoid of her usual confidence. Eva realised she was silent for too long, caught off-guard by Lina’s admission, that Lina assumed she was upset.

“No, no. I was just thinking.” They stopped in front of the palace doors. Eva turned to Lina. Two sides warred in her mind. On one hand, she so rarely talked about how she felt. On the other, her lips had this uncontrollable need to spill her thoughts when she was around Lina. For the first time since meeting her, Eva couldn’t read her features.

She laughed inwardly at the absurdity of the situation. She was the Witch Queen. She feared nothing, answered to nothing. And yet, she was utterly terrified of giving voice to her feelings. But with greater risks came greater rewards.

She decided to take the leap. “I am glad you told me that, Lina.” She looked down. Sideways. Up. At Lina’s face. Took a deep breath. “I have been thinking about that since that day you danced to the sea serpent.”

Lina parted her lips, about to talk, then seemed to change her mind and shut them.

“I couldn’t stop staring at you that day, and I couldn’t today either.”

Their eyes met in a fierce battle of wills to decide who would look away first. Eva couldn’t, not even if she wanted. Too fixated onto the depths in Lina’s eyes, too far gone.

Lina slowly leaned in, her eyes darting between Eva’s eyes and lips.

Eva had thrown her heart into the sea, but what was that she felt in her chest? What was that awful twisting in her gut, that searing inability to think clearly, that . . . ache?

Eva watched as the other woman’s lips moved closer, and closer.

And closer.

Lina’s eyes burst wide open in alarm. Her lips stopped their sure ascent towards Eva’s.

The ache in Eva’s chest intensified as she moved back. She cleared her throat and looked away. “I have to go,” Lina mumbled, and quickly turned away. She sprinted to her boat and, without another glance at Eva, she tapped her knuckles against its side and sped away.

Eva sighed. She had really, really wanted to capture those lips with hers.

She didn’t understand Lina’s reluctance. After all, they had shared a kiss all those weeks ago. A kiss that had Eva’s chest hitching every time she remembered it, and she recalled it too often.

She should’ve run after Lina and talked to her, she knew, but it was too late now. She watched as the boat drifted farther and farther, and out of sight.

Eva deflated as she dematerialised into black smoke.

Next time. She’d talk to Lina next time.

She hoped she would come.


	4. PLUS ONE

It took Lina almost a week before returning to the palace. Eva stood in the balcony, where they’d shared their first kiss, when she glimpsed a broom boat approaching, a lone figure inside. She didn’t have to look twice to recognise Lina.

She rushed into the room inside, re-materialising at the palace doors. She sprinted the remaining distance to the boat. She supposed she should slow down so Lina didn’t notice how eager she was, but thought better of it. So what if she appeared over-zealous? She’d already shared a lot of herself with Lina. Why would one more thing matter? After all, Eva secretly hoped she would share even more with Lina.

So she walked as quickly as her legs would allow her.

When she got to the boat, Lina had already stepped off it and onto the slippery ground. She looked up and gave Eva a tight smile when she saw her. Eva slackened her stride.

What did that look mean?

“Are you okay?” she asked once she was a few breadths from Lina.

Lina nodded. “I need to talk to you.”

Nothing good ever came of those words.

“All right.”

“Let’s walk,” Lina said, starting a walk in the path surrounding the palace. Eva followed her, matching her steps until they were walking in tandem.

They walked for a few tense minutes. Eva ran different scenarios in her mind. All with bad outcomes. The worst of which had Lina yelling at her with fervour the likes of which she had barely glimpsed from her. She was telling her off for getting too close, too personal, even though Lina was the one to lean in the last time. But in all fairness, Eva had been the one to initiate the only kiss they’d shared, even if Lina had melted into it like a thawing ice cube.

Lina took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about last time,” she finally said, her voice firm, as if she had been rehearsing the words, and knowing Lina, she probably had. They were such simple words, yet they carried such heaviness. “I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you.”

Eva couldn’t help but stop in her tracks. “Why not?” She turned to look at Lina, who also halted.

“We . . . I don’t know.”

“Why would you apologise, then?”

“Because I felt your hesitancy. I kept leaning in and you didn’t move. Didn’t meet me halfway.” Lina stole a glance at her, then fixed her sight on the ground. “So I chickened out and ran away.”

Of course. As usual, Eva had gotten too lost in her thoughts and had given Lina the wrong impression. “It isn’t like you to run away, Lina. Not from anything.”

“I know. But you make me do things I’ve never done before,” Lina whispered, still not meeting Eva’s eyes.

Eva wasn’t having it. Lina shouldn’t get to say things like that then just look away from her. So, without giving it much thought, she reached out and lifted Lina’s chin with a fingertip. Her breath hitched at the look she saw in those eyes. Unguarded. Open. Wary.

“Lina,” came Eva’s voice. A low pitch she’s never heard herself use before. “You were wrong. I did want to kiss you. I _do_.”

Not giving herself a chance to hesitate, Eva captured Lina’s warm lips in hers, moving into her personal space and wrapping her arms around her shoulders.

Even though she’d expected it, she was amazed when Lena returned the kiss, her usual fire re-emerging, their lips re-acquainted at last.

Eva kissed her hungrily, firmly. Insistently. She reached up and ran her hands down Lina’s silver curls, sighing in her mouth at the sensations spreading through her body.

Their first kiss was a mere spark compared to the heat of this one.

Eva pulled away for breath, then promptly connected their lips again. She felt hands pulling her hips closer to Lina as Lina’s mouth opened under her incessant lips.

When their tongues grazed, Eva understood the ache and hunger in her chest. Warmth spread through her centre, her entire being.

How could she ever want for anything else when she got to kiss Lina like that?

Their lips broke apart, Lina leaning on Eva’s shoulders for support. With her eyes closed, Eva’s arms circled Lina’s waist as she rested her forehead against hers. She felt dazed. Unsteady. Out of breath.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have hesitated last time,” Lina said.

Eva opened her eyes and gave her an incredulous look. “Really.” The comment earned her a giggle.

Eva realised something then, and it hit her with such enormity it scared her.

She would do anything for Lina Kirk. Scale mountains, brave tides. She would even exhaust her magic just to see her happy. Now, when Eva wondered if that was love, if that was what all those fairy stories were about, she knew the answer: a resounding yes.

For now, though, Lina seemed content with Eva’s touch, with the dance of their tongues. So she did the only thing she could.

She kissed her again.


End file.
